


Kingdom (larry)

by holby1d



Category: 1D - Fandom, Harry Styles - Fandom, Hate - Fandom, King - Fandom, Larry - Fandom, Louis - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, Love - Fandom, One Direction (Band), Onedirection - Fandom, smut - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7640377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holby1d/pseuds/holby1d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can't do this to me."<br/>"Yes I can, I own you now.:<br/>Due to one kind deed, Harry Syles the poor boy finds himself forced into a life which he never wanted. He has life this life before and has sworn to never return.<br/>Louis, the prince. He's naive and is constantly taken advantage of. He needs a touch of reality whilst Harry needs a touch of fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

the larry topic. I'm not a larry shipper, I just thought the two of them make a good story. I believe Louis and Harry used to be together but know they aren't. Which is sad as they no longer even interact. The rumours have dragged them apart.

 

The Tower of London 1545  
He looked at me with that sense of fury and deprivation. I looked at him with that sense of disgust and anger. He was a disgusting human being. He'd ruined everything and had managed to traumatise my family. He didn't do if because he thought I'd done wrong, he did it to get back at me.

As i reached the wooden oval doorway he slammed me against the wall. I tried to fight back but he held his grip. Letting out a small laugh he drew out his sword.

"Going somewhere, ?" He asked.

I slammed my left fist into his cheek but he barely flinched. I struggled trying to get free but his strength was more than mine.

"What do you want !" I yelled, "you've already destroyed my family."

By this point he'd lifted up his sword. The light from the window caused it to shine and light up the otherwise darkened corridor. He brought the silver menace to my throat pressing down on my adams apple. I struggled to breath but I knew I had to stay focused. The words "he won't kill you" played in my mind.

"I know what you're thinking, you're thinking I would never kill the Kings lover." I opened my mouth to protest but he applied more pressure on the blade which had me screaming. "Don't try and deny it we all know you're the kings one true love."

I hated the fact he was mocking me. What did he know about true love? Our love was considered wrong yet I knew it was true. I'd tried so hard to ignore it but now I was ready to accept it.

Although if he continued slicing my throat I knew I wouldn't have time to accept it.

"You'll never kill me," I hissed, "the king would never allow it!"

"Who says the king has to now, say poor curly in such a state of dispare cast himself out of the window and the kings poor uncle couldn't save him," HE gazed at the window as if he could already see my ghostly figure falling towards the cobbled ground.

I took this distraction as a time to make my move. Pushing away the sword I grabbed him by the collar throwing him against the window pane. Suddenly snapping back to reality he sliced his sword down the exposed skin of my arm. I let out a howl of pain but I carried on fighting. I knew he wouldn't stop until was dead.

Ignoring the pain I pressed the mans body on the window pane until with an ultimately crash it smashed. Now my bleeding arm was the only thing stopping him from hurtling into the cold depths below. I knew I had to take advantage of this situation, my arms was bleeding more rapidly and my hold was getting weak. It was now or never.

"All I want is what's rightfully mine!" he screamed as I held him over the exposed window, "I should be the Kings second in command not you, you're just a poor boy who thinks he can dress up in finery and pretend he's something he's not."

"You may want to be nice to me mate, after all I'm the last face you're going to see before you burn in hell!"

I couldn't believe this voice was really me. Me the servant boy had become me the maniac. I knew what I was doing was right after all he wouldn't hesitate in killing me. Besides the wrecked man had destroyed my darlings son innocent mind, yet something still felt wrong. The sight of him begging for mercy felt so wrong.

What had I become? Just because other people stooped to this level didn't mean I had to. After all I was the better person.

"He has to die," a voice in my head spoke.

Closing my eyes I made my final decision. A decision which would change the person I was. Would I stay as an angel or would i transform into a devil?


	2. Chapter 1-The same old day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty boring but sets the scene

Harry's p.o.v  
_It was early one Saturday morning when I first met him. It may have been early but I didn't feel bright. I lay under my warm covers for several more minutes, not wanting to get up._

_Eventually my father strides into the room and pulled the cover off me."Jack, get up now."_

_I moaned but I obeyed him. I loved my father and although he was generally kind, he could easily turn angry if I didn't do what I was told._

_I was dressed into what looked like a miniature version of my fathers outfit. The tunic and the fur were all identical. My maids cooed but quickly turned away when they saw the look of disgust on my face._

_My father seemed a little to overly excited. "Look at you, funny you look just like a mini me."_

_It said it like I hadn't noticed. He tickled my chin which usually cheered me up but today I kept my face in a frown._

_Father sighed, "you better cheer up when you meet him, hun otherwise I won't be happy!"_

_I didn't want to make my father unhappy._

_After a light breakfast we made our way to the carriage. My mother wasn't coming along for the journey she was heavily pregnant and could give birth at any time. Father kissed her lips before whispering to her stomach. Taking his hand in mine he lead me towards the awaiting carriage._

_He sat me on his lap. keeping his hands firmly around my waist. I leaned into him cuddling into the fur on his coat._

_He gave me a long lecture about how I was supposed to act and how to address him. I didn't understand. Why would I? I was only years old. Nobody ever bowed to me so why should I bow to him. I was up for a long argument but Father told me to button it._

_I didn't want this. Any of this. I didn't want to be forced to be friends with some prince. Prince automatically meant posh and stuck up. Besides he was a year older than me._

_The time seemed to go all too fast. I barely had time to think before the carriage rolled up at the palace. With a firm hand on my back I was lead inside. It felt as though I was walking to my death. I was scared, I'd hurt so many bad things about kings. Maybe if I did something wrong, he'd chop my head off._

_As we reached the parlour I hung back._

_"Daddy, don't let them chop my head off," I mumbled into his cloak._

_He sighed, "Jack, his majesty isn't going to chop your head off, you're not meeting him away you're meeting the prince."_

_I didn't see how the prince could be any better. Clinging onto my fathers hand he led me into his first meeting of the day. I had a whole day of these before I met the prince._

_._

"Harry Styles, put that book down and get to work!"

My bosses voice boomed so loudly through the room that I spilt my ink pot pouring it all over the table.

"For pity sake boy," Mr Harrison stood in the doorway his arms crossed.

"I'm sorry, sir."

I used an old rag to try to clear up the blue mess, but instead I ended up smearing it even more.

He swatted me out of the way. Clicking his fingers one of his maids came over with a scrubbing brush. In just a few seconds she'd already made more of an improvement then I had.

"I really am sorry, sir," I mumbled, "I'll get back to your labels straight away."

Mr Harrison owned the largest shoe shop in town. The shoes he sold were of the highest standard. The leather was the sturdiest but softest in the whole city. Even the richest people in society remarked on how brilliant the shoes were. I myself had never tried them especially not with them being so ridiculously expensive. It wasn't like we were offered a staff discount either.

The shoes came at a price for us workers though. Liam along with 3 other men worked for hours to clean up the leather, whilst Niall and a few others would spend hours stitching the pieces together. If they weren't small enough or they were wonky they'd have to start enough. Niall always came to bed covered in blisters, but he never dared complained. He knew this was job would be the best we'd ever get.

As Mr Harrison walked over, I quickly hid my book. I didn't want him to read it.

"You're handwritings surprisingly perfect," Mr Harrison remarked scanning his eyes over the neat row of letters of his labels which thankfully weren't covered in ink.

The same couldn't be said for my book.

I used to also endure the same torture of stitching the leather together until Mr Harrison discovered I could write. It was such an unusual skill for use poor that it did make him suspicious. I simply muttered something along the lines of my Dad teaching me. I didn't want to tell him the truth. Why would I? Nobody knew apart from my mother and that was the way it would stay.

They all knew the old me. I had literally lived two different lives.

I was now Mr Harrison's officials writer. I spent hour after hour writing out the labels for his shoes. It was a long and boring task but better than slaving away in the shoe factory.

"Tell me again, Styles where did you learn to write like that?"

My cheeks turned red, I'd already lied to him a million times, "My Dad taught me."

"And where did your father learn it, surely he came from the same background as you!"

I didn't really know what to say, "Um well my father worked at a transcribing company so he had to know how to write."

I didn't sound at all convincing. I might as well have said an alien had taught him.

Mr Harrison shook his head, "forget it get those notes done and I might let you sell some stock."

I gave a muffled yes sir before turning back to my desk. The maid had long since finished cleaning up the ink although several stains still remained.

Mr Harrison was probably the best boss I'd ever had. He didn't beat us or leave us half starved like some of the others. His residence was also clean and friendly not like some of the rough cramped places I''d worked before- but for me it wasn't enough. I didn't know why but for some reason I always wanted more from life. I had this feeling that something was going to change for the better and that something would happen soon.

**********

I finished my work in plenty of time and spent the afternoon in the shop. It was a long and boring day with the only customers being rich men buying work shoes or presents for their wives. It didn't help that it was freezing cold and my grubby tunic and trousers didn't reserve any body heat. Mr Hatrison did dress me in a long coat, but that was only because he feared my "peasant clothes," would turn customers away.

"Do I look bad?" I had asked as he tried to cover my shirt.

"No of course you don't," He said.

I noticed he admired his own fine clothes. Stroking the soft material.

He must have noticed the look on my face.

"Tell you what when I get some spare cash, I'll buy you some decent clothes."

I knew he was probably just joking but I appreciated the gesture.

An even finer dressed men entered the shop several minutes later. Hos coat was lined with gold and his tunic was made of silk.

I had no clue who this men was but Mr Harrison obviously did.

"Your grace," He said in an over the top voice.

The men took his hat off and handed it to one of the girls at the door. It was only then I managed to get a proper look at him. He looked around mid forties a fine built men with a mop of curly black hair and big blue eyes. He was quite a looker.

For some reason those beady blue eyes did look familiar.  
"Might I interest you I. Our latest stock, I am even big to offer you a discount."  
My daydream was cut of by Mr Harrison poking me hard in the ribs, "Harry did you not here the man he wants some shoes for his nephew."

"Oh," I mumbled, "um what sort of thing do you want, your grace."

I still had no idea who he was but that was how Mr Harrison had dressed him.

"Just give me the most expensive pair in the shop," He smirked sitting on one of the plush seats, "anyway Harrison I have big news."

I took this as many cue to leave. Walking to the back of the shop I picked my way through the pile of shoes.What did he mean the most expensive pair in the shop. Was that just a term rich people used or was he being literal.

Picking out the fanciest pair I could find I made my way back. Harrison and the man sat in the corner deep in conversation. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but I was interested to know what they are talking about.

"WHat will he think?" Harrison said.

"I don't care what he thinks," the man replied, "it's going to happen and thats that. The boy is eighteen and will move back to the palace, I'm his uncle and what I and his father says goes."

"Of course, Thomas."

Thomas? My brain eventually snapped it action. This man was Thomas the uncle of the prince of England. The same prince who seemed to disappear when he was only seven. This same prince was now coming back to London. This was the biggest news since the last plague.

"Harry!" Harrison snapped as they both turned to look at me.

"Um I've brought the shoes."

Thomas looked them up and down before taking them from me, "Thank you child, I'll take them."

Thomas really didn't recognise me. Then again it had been 11 years. Despite this I couldn't stop the beads of sweat from forming on my forehead.

"Harry, pay attention," Harrison said.

"Sorry," I muttered. Seeing Thomas brought back memories, memories of things I didn't want to remember. Then again Louis was coming back to court. At least there was one passive thing coming out of this.

I couldn't wait to tell Niall and Liam. Although it didn't make any difference to us whether the prince came or went their was something satisfying about being one of the only people who knew.

Liam and Niall certainly took their time. It was pitch black by the time they came out of Mr Harrison's factory dirty and miserable.

"You two look great," I joked trying to lighten the mood.

Judging by the dirty looks they both gave me they didn't appreciate it.

We slowly made our way back me walking much faster than them. They both dragged their feet as slowly as possible obviously exhausted. Liam started to tell some story about all of the leather being ruined and having to start all over again, whilst Niall simply moaned.

"Anyway I said," interrupting Liam's vivid description of the selfish bitch of a human who he was ready to slaughter, "apparently the princes coming back to court."

Both of them completely ignored me still caught up in their obviously terrible days work.

I said "the pr-"

"I heard you the first time," Liam snapped running his hands through his messy hair, "first of all who gives a shit, secondly what does that have to do with us and thirdly how do you know this?"

Liam had extremely set views on the rich. He hated every single one of them. He couldn't understand why such a small group of people should have so much whilst the rest of us had nothing.It gave this rant pretty much every night. Swearing if he had a chance he'd kill the entire monarchy.

"One the boy hasn't been to London since he was seven, two I though it was interesting, three Sir Thomas came into the shop earlier and told Harrison."

"Harrison's associated with royalty," Liam wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought.

I rolled my eyes, "associated with royalty not actually royalty."

"I see no difference," He replied, "we should hijack the princes carriage and kidnap him, that will make us some decent money."

He was joking. I hoped. With Liam you could never really tell. He did have the strange twinklier his eye which he had when he was plotting something. He smiled as if to say I'm joking but I still felt on edge about it.

By this point we were home. Well our version of home. Mr Harrison gave us free lodgings which were dramatically cleaner than others place we had stayed. There was no lice, no mould and no weird stains on the beds. The only problem was that 8 of us were squashed into two rooms. The rooms were bare apart from two double beds and an ugly yellow rug. Boiling hot in the summer but freezing cold in the winter. Liam's infant brother passed away last winter and my mother fell ill. I nursed her for days and she eventually recovered.

Liam's parents and his two sisters were squashed in one room and Niall, my mum and I were in the other. I always saw our families as lose baggage as the "men" of the family we were the ones excepted to bring in the money. It wasn't too bad for Liam as his Dad and sisters also worked although they earned peanuts. Niall was an orphan so he didn't have any lose baggage and my mother hadn't spoken properly since the day Dad left.

I dreaded going upstairs to see her. Everyday I was unsure of what state I'd find her in.

"See you tomorrow for prince hunting," Liam said turning to his family room.

He must have seen the alarm on my face, "Harry I'm just joking I wouldn't dream of doing anything to your darling prince."

"My prince!" I said, "I've never even met him."

That was a lie.

"You'd think you had the way you keep going on about him," Niall chuckled.

I ignored them. Grabbing Niall's arm I pulled him inside and slammed the door in Liam's face.

The room has exactly the same as how I'd left it. The bed was still unmade from where we'd gotten up. Even Niall's precariously placed glass was still in the same position. A dark figure sat on the edge of the bed staring at nothing.

I took a deep breath, here it came again, "Mother," I whispered softly.

She didn't so much as flinch.

"Mother it's me, it's Harry," I stood in front of her directly in her view, so she couldn't ignore me.

"Charles? she mumbled.

I curled my fist in despair. Charles was my father who had died when I was only seven. It made me so frustrated that I tried so hard to support my mother yet she barely even ackonalged my existence. I knew she blamed me for Dad dying . It was so unfair I was so young, how was it my fault?

"No mother, it's your son," I felt tears coming to my eyes, "but you see to have forgotten you have one!"

I didn't bother to say anything else to her After all she was only going to ignore me. I helped her get into bed before blowing out the main candle. Tiptoeing out of the room I went to join Niall who was sitting by the large oval window in the corridor.

"How was she?" He asked.

I knew if I replied I'd burst into tears.

Niall put down his candle and rubbed my shoulder, "you don't need a family, you've got me and Liam. I've done fine without mine."

I gave him a weak grin. Niall's parents and brother died of one of the diseases which had spread rapidly through the village. I myself caught it but I recovered. Niall's family weren't so lucky.

"You always stay so positive how do you do it?' I asked.  
The bright bubbly blond boy, seemed to be immune from sadness.

"Oh I cry," He said, "I just do it where nobody can see."

I had never see Niall cry. I suppose I assumed he was one of those strong people who never showed sad emotions. It was dumb of me to think.

"You've got a perfect view on the palace here," Niall commented.

Amongst the shabby unkept houses was the palace it is full glory. It shone like a diamond. It's turrets and balconies were so magnificent. I knew the interior was probably better. Luxury beds with shiny wooden furniture. Large airy rooms, with magnificent paintings. Gardens which were so vast that you could get lost inside them.

"Imagine being royal," Niall sighed going into a daydream.

I imagine it. I imagine having a bedroom all to myself and not having tog et up to noon. I imagined getting to wear finery and not having to lift a finger. I imagined having everything I ever needed and never fearing going hungry. I imagined being someone who was respected and loved in society.

Unlike Niall I had experienced these things. Not that he was ever going to find out.

"Someday that will be us," Niall smiled leaning against the glass.

"Yeah that would be nice," I replied.

"I'm serious!" He slipped is hand into mine, "one day our luck will change Harry, you. me, Liam and your families will have a better life."

"I've always had this feeling something will change," I said glad that Niall had similar bizarre ideas.

"Well if we both though the same thing, it's bound to come true."

Somebody had been reading too many fairy stories. Dreams never came true, Maybe the did for those who were fortunate, but not for people like us.  
So far my life had been on a downhill spiral, which refused to slow down.

I went to bed that night with an excited feeling in my stomach. It was as though all the negative things in my life had been removed. I knew things wouldn't change but the vision of what could be was what kept me going.

For the first time in fifteen years I slept well.


	3. Chapter 2-Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction of Louis yada yada

Louis's p.o.v

"I shall not!"

Thomas stood over me, his red angry expression right in my face. The piece of paper he was holding was becoming rather crumpled in his harsh grip.

"You will do as I dam say!" He yelled slamming the piece of paper into my lap. He raised his fist as though he was going to hit me, but he composed himself and brought it to the mattress instead.

"You're crazy," I mumbled pushing the paper away.

I lay back under my sheet ignoring him. I found the darkest part of the duvet and l stayed there. It was hot and stuffy but at least I didn't have to look at Thomas ugly face. Sadly it only lasted for around 30 seconds before he'd ripped the sheet clean off the bed, leaving me completely exposed.

I didn't have time to react before he'd grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the other side of the room. I screamed in protest but he ignored me. Pushing me against the wall he forced the letter into my hand.

"Let go of me!" I howled, "please Thomas I'm the prince of England, I could have you arrested!"

Thomas didn't seem at all scared. His stronger big hands almost devoured my bony wrists.

"Listen here you little brat do you know how easily I could have your father turn against you."

I hesitated. I hadn't seen my father in so long. I had no idea of how much of an influence Thomas had over him. Surely my father would believe me his only son, over his ex brother in law but maybe just maybe Thomas was telling the truth.

"You understand me now don't you, your highness," He mocked.

"I-i," I stuttered.

Thomas took this as a yes. Leading me back to my desk he placed the paper on the wood and handed me a quill. I hesitated the ink dripping onto the paper. I hated the fact Thomas was forcing me into this. However when I became King I knew I could easily go back on my promises. Everybody respects and listens to a king more than a prince.

After several minutes of Thomas glaring at me my hand snapped into action and I signed the document.

"Though I'm going to let everyone know it was against my will!" I huffed pushing past him and getting back into bed.

"Not so fast!" He snapped, "you've got to pack."

"Pack?" I asked wondering if this was another one of his manipulation techniques, "pack for what?"

"You're moving back to London tomorrow."

My body turned cold. London the city full of so much misery and greed. London the place where my mothers cold body lay buried under the ground. I didn't believe in the supernatural but when I was little I always felt as if there was someone there. Someone to tell me off when I did wrong, someone to comfort me at night. I never dared say anything people were brutal of that sort of thing. They'd accuse meh of being mad and would have me burnt.

"Why?" I demanded, "I like it here!"

I lived here in Kent inc I was seven and I lived a decent life. I was fluent in three languages and was learning a fourth, I had plenty of food and nobody except Thomas would tell we what to do.

"You'll do as you're told!"

"You're not the boss of me!" I cried, "I can do what I like!"

"Look brat you don't have a choice in the matter ok!" He slapped me harshly around the cheek.

I cringed at his touch. Thomas said that he only used violence to help me. He said all families did it out of love and compassion for their young. I wasn't sure whether I believed him. The amount of brusies and pain he'd put me in over the last 11 years said otherwise. He always said I could never tell anyone as we had a special bond which no one could break.

"I'm sorry I got angry," I said trembling at the surge of pain on my cheek.

HE wrapped his hand around me stroking my hair. His other hand tickled my neck. He touched me like this regularly and I didn't like it one bit.

"You just need to listen to me, after all I know best, ok."

'I nodded still shaking.

"All I want is to look after you, your highness, you're so naive and people will always try and take advantage of you."

Although he may cause me so much pain and suffering, I knew it was all for the best. Thomas really cared about me. I'd spent so long locked away from the world that I knew people would constantly take advantage of the little naive prince. Thomas would guide me the right way.

Our awkward contact was interrupted by one of my maids coming in with my breakfast tray. She blushed when she saw Thomas and I so close to each other.

"Sorry, your highness I should have knocked."

"It's ok, put it there," I indicated to a small pile of latin books which I hadn't tidied up yet.

Thomas turned back to me that slightly creepy smile still painted on his face.

"When do we leave?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, however I've already been up in advance to prepare your quarters."

Tomorrow. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. I wasn't ready to leave not yet.

"When will we come back?'

Thomas let out a hearty laugh which made me feel even worse. What had I done wrong now?

"Dear child, the palace will be your home now. You have to step up to your royal duties."

"Duties?"

"Speeches, meetings, looking nice all the typical things. You'll be the most attractive person at court.

"Most attractive ?" I spat out what a weird thing to say.

"Youngest Louis I pointed out how you would be the youngest person at court," I think there is something wrong with your hearing."

That did sound anything like what I had heard.  
I don't zz  
"Oh by the way, I bought you these," he dug into a bag which he'd left near the door.

He brought out a pair of leather shoes. I rolled my eyes as I saw the price tag was still attached. Typical Thomas always wanting to show off his money.

"Thanks," I said with no expression tossing them on the carpet.

"One of the peasant workers picked them out, Thomas sniffed, "you might want to give them a clean before you wear them."

Thomas had extreme views on the poor. It was their fault they were poor. If they only got off their lazy asses and worked hard, he believed everyone could be rich. The fact that this boy was in fact working seemed to have passed him over.

"Anyway child, I better go, I have a meeting don't miss me too much," He turned on his heels before finally leaving my room.

I wrinkled my nose as his foul smell lingered. He always drenched himself in this disgusting lemony scent. He though it attracted the woman, I thought it just smelt disgusting.

He'd always seen himself as a lady magnet. He sleep with a new mistress every night. He was on either his third or fourth wife by now.

I planned to never get married. Marriage only lead to misery and a long life wishing you were someone else. I was only basing my theory off of all of Thomas failed marriage but despite all the fairytales I knew true love didn't exist.

****

The rest of the day dragged on for as long as possible. After lessons I was forced to pack. I didn't want to go but like Thomas said I didn't really have a choice in the matter.

I chucked most of my stuff out. Tattered old books, toys and general junk. I did pause at an old wooden horse from my old governess. It was an ill spent piece of wood rough at the edges, with small holes in the paint where it hadn't been properly covered. She must have spent hours on it.

Thomas had sneered at the gift telling her it was a pile of rubbish. He had thrown it against the wall with a massive clunk. The horse stayed in tack but it took a large chunk out of the plaster. Thomas told her she was a selfish human being buying such a feebly gift for the future king of England. I didn't say anything. Even in those days I did exactly what Thomas said. He wasn't the sort of person you could really question.

I did keep the horse. It sat on my shelf looking awfully shabby next to Thomas' fancy oranments.

I did play with it a few times, but never when Thomas was around.

I fiddled with the horse now but tossed it on to the chuck pile. I was eighteen not eight.

The shoes Thomas had bought back from London sat neatly on top of the keep pile. I didn't really understand why he had bought them. They were obviously expensive going by the price label which Thomas had left on. He seemed to think money was the answer to everything.

I suppose in a world run by greed,it was.

The gifts from my mother came next. All the things she left for me before she died. The best was a letter written by one of her ladies in waiting on her death bed. In it she old me she'd always love me and that I'd be a great king. It was that last bit which made me feel queasy. I would never make a decent king. I didn't have the wit or personality needed, but I didn't want to disappoint her.

I wasn't what my father wanted. He excepted a 6 foot 4 strong muscly boy to walk in. Instead he had a 5 foot 9 short, skinny boy with a annoying habit of shivering whenever Thomas walked past. I would be a complete disappointment.

Thomas said he had told my Father about me. I could imagine his description, "skinny, dull, nervous and meek."

I stil had strange memories about Thomas. Things I thought were wrong but I couldn't question. Maybe they were right? After all they didn't know any differently.

One night Thomas came and slept beside me. I was only seven but I had, had nightmare and ran down the corridor looking for him. Instead of comforting dme, he climbed into bed Nextel to me. He kept his arms around my waist all night, It was uncomfortable but I didn't dare complin. He did several other strange things. Things I thought were only meant to happen between a husband and wife not being an uncle and nephew.

The next morning he had kissed me on the cheek and had said I was "a good boy."

I knew I was lucky to have him. After all he was always willing to comfort me when something went wrong. The way my sisters and nurses would look after me was nothing like the way Thomas treated me. I brought this up to Thomas once but he gave his usual answer.

"I care for you more than the rest of them."

He continued with this strange gestures. Stroking my hair in my room, squeezing my thigh at dinner, one time when he was just us together in the garden he had leaned forward and kissed my cheek, he didn't stop there pushing me down onto the grass and running his hands up my chest. It must have looked weird to the elderly gardener in the corner who Thomas had failed to spot. I remember the old man shaking his head and looking sadly at me; I never understood why he looked at me as though I was unfortunate. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he knew questioning a lord and a prince was never a good idea.

Why was I unfortunate? Surely I had everything. Everything but a clue of the harshness of the world.

Inn the end I ended up with hardly any things left. I kept a small box of sessions and that was it. It was time to move on, time to start afresh. Holding onto the past was never going to help my future.

The evening dragged on even longer. I was forced to go to dinner with a duke of somewhere. I could never be bothered to learn who they actually where. He brought along his overly cling wife and his two brattish children. They were both at least thirteen but they whined and moaned like they were three especially the boy, refusing to eat his dinner and competly ignore his mother. When she snapped at them, he kicked her on the shin.

The mother eventually won the argument and the boy got sent away in shame. It made the situation awkward for the rest of us though as the father tried to hide his bright red face in his hands. I also managed to spill sauce all down my leg.

"Louis," Thomas laughed in a weirdly high pitched voice.

He picked up a napkin and started scrubbing at my leg. I blushed wondering if they thought I was such a posh prat that I wouldn't even clean up after myself.

The man said nothing, but he did raise his eyebrows. "So, your highness have you though about what may happen with Ireland?"

Thomas starting talking before I even open my mouth. For once I was glad he was impulsive as I had know idea what the man was talking about. I knew so little about my country it was actually sad.

I sat there moving my fork backwards and forwards in my swan. The sight of the poor animal still being in one piece made me queasy. I could never understand how people could eat it, knowing just a few days ago it was still alive.

We only had swans when we had visitors. I didn't find it special. Just thought it was gross.

"Apparently the kings in trouble, your highness," the man said snapping me out of my swan cruelty day-dream.  
"Oh," I was surprised I hadn't heard anything about this before, "why?"

The man Shrugged, "people are always going to be against the king."

"People, in this instance, happens to refer to most of the population," Thomas replied.

"What are you going to do about in then?" I asked worriedly.

"Those who rebel are hung. It's the best way to get rid of them but if the whole country revolts there's nothing the king can do. He can't kill the whole population of Britain. Our armies will only get so far," the man replied.

"What would you suggest we do then?" Thomas asked finishing off his wine.

The man narrowed his eyes and gave a small menacing look, "Propaganda, that's the only way to handle the situation, the queens new rather attractive ladies in waiting, hangings, the return of the prince" he looked at me and winked, "executions."

The only thing I'd really established from this conversation was that my father was it trouble. Why didn't I know about this? Surely I should have been warned that the whole kingdom was close to collapse. That put me in danger. I hadn't done anything wrong yet.

"Why would me being back at court help the situation?" I asked.

The man smiled, obviously happy I was finally taking interest. I really just wanted him to leave so I could finally have some peace and quiet. "simple, everybody loves a prince. Especially someone innocent like you."

I blushed. Why did they constantly refer to me as innocent?

"Your job, Louis is to be a distraction. A distraction from the truth," said Thomas.

"My father doesn't really want me back does he?" I snapped suddenly becoming defence, "he just wants to use me as a distraction."

Judging by the look on Thomas' face I was right but of course he wasn't going to let me know that.

"Louis he loves you," Thomas protested.

I thew my fork down with a clatter. "If we really loved me, he would come and visit me or let me live with him like every other father does, if he really loved me he wouldn't have shut me from the outside world, if he really loved me he wouldn't try to forget me-"

"Enough!" Thomas yelled cutting me off, "Thats quiet enough from you young man."  
"You're not the boos of me, you just can't stand the fact I'm telling the truth!"  
"I said enough! You have no idea of the troubles us three went through, we moved you here to protect you! Now stop being a pig and be quiet!"

I bent my head and crossed my arms and pulled a face. Thomas tapped me harshly on the knuckles with his spoon before turning his back on me. I didn't care, I did't want to talk to him anyway.

I kept out of the rest of the conversation. Thomas and the man carried on burbling for at least another hour. They got into an extreme debate about politics. It was sad how little I knew about what they were saying.

Eventually after what seemed like hours, they stopped.

"Anyway," the man wiped his mouth and stood up, "neither of you two have anything to worry about. Thank you for the lovely meal,your grace, your highness," he bowed before taking his daughter in one hand and his wife in the other. The young boy was dragged away by their coachman who seemed to getting the full force of the boys fist.

I stared at the path long after their carriage ad rolled away. It seemed as thought I'd learnt more about my England in the last few hours than I had in the last eighteen years; and what I had been told terrified me. Tomorrow I would be in the thick of it unable to escape.

Tomorrow I would no longer be the hidden prince. Once my father died I would do was I born to do. Rule.

That was if my kingdom existed by then. With the ways things seemed to be going I soon I wouldn't have a kingdom to rule over.


	4. Chaper 3-He's the prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry together

Harry's p.o.v

I dragged my feet as slowly as possible behind my Father.

_"Jack," he hissed, "walk properly."_

_I was tired. I'd been sitting in meetings and trudging down endless corridors all day. I was only 6 years old, but as the son of a duke these were things I was excepted to attend._

_I sat with a smile on my face and a straight back with no moaning or whimpering._

_If I complained father would paddle me._

_He lead me down several more shiny wood covered corridors before we reached an open door. In it sat several strict looking people. They stood over a young boy; he only seemed to be around my age, although his clothing was definitely fancier._

_He fixed me with a small smile, which I quickly returned. We were both in the same boat. Two young boys of rich men who were forced to do things against their will._

_"Louis," a tall broad man who I had been told was his uncle said, "you two shall be tutored together. We don't want you getting lonely."_

_The boy turned his head away, disinterested. The man stride over and ignoring his yelps picked the boy up and brought him over to me._

_"Say hello to the prince, Jack," Father said prodding me in the back._

_i took a shaky bow, "your highness."_

_The boy said nothing, but he took my hand in his and lead me over to his pile of toys. "Play with me,"' He said, "Thomas, doesn't do it right."_

_The adults continued to chatter in the background, but we ignored them. He showed me all of his toys and we started up some bizarre game._

I didn't have time to continue before Liam came rushing in telling me to get up. I slammed the book shut. I didn't want him to see it.

"What is that?' Liam asked trying to swipe the book off the table.

I knew if I lied he would just continue asking. If I persisted he may even steal it and read it-that was too awful to even think about.

"It's the story of my life," I mumbled turning red.

Liam reacted the way I knew he would. He raised his eyebrows and burst out laughing, "You, you haven't had a life, nobody wants to read about the life of a poor boy, Harry."

I knew he was right, but his words still hurt. He didn't know my real story just the one I'd told him. The one where my Dad died and my Mum stopped talking. My book was about the truth.

"What are you gonna do with it, publish it."

I knew he was still teasing but I couldn't stand him walking all over me.

"Yes, actually I am."

Liam didn't reply.

Despite his words I couldn't help but be in a strongly good mood. Niall's word from yesterday were still playing on my mind. A weird tingle ran through me. I hadn't been in a good mood for so long, this feeling was almost foreign to me.

My good mood did sink slightly as we were forced into the town centre to watch a public hanging.

These hangings happened regularly. Not a week went by when there wasn't at least two bodies swaying backwards and forwards completely lifeless. Their still eyes would stare in to the distaceb, their heads on one side their broken necks unable to support them.

Todays was no different. A young woman accused of adultery was led not the stage. The crowd immediately responded. The men jeering, the woman simpering. Her family mourning and the young children crying.

I tried not to look as he noose was placed around her neck. I couldn't imagine the fear which must have been running through her. My hands were sweating and I didn't even now the girl. Even so I could;t help but feel sympathy for her, she was so innocent. She had done wrong but she was too naive to understand the consequences of what she had done.

For a moment I willed myself to run up the wooden stairs and rescue her. I'd push the guards aside, cut the rope and run away with her in my arms. She'd see me as her hero and she would say,

"I've already got a lover, thanks," and she'd probably push me aside and run off.

In reality the trap door dropped and the woman screamed. in no time all her body was still. The once beautiful creature, full of life and happiness had now been reduced to nothing.

"Well that was lovely," Niall commented rubbing his bare arms.

Last night the weather had turned bad. Around midnight it had dropped below freezing.. The temperature in our room seemed to drop below freezing. All three of us huddled together like sardines trying to reserve as much heat as possible.

I woke up with blue lips and my arms a deep shade of red.

"At least she won't feel the cold anymore," Liam creeped over to the woman's body which had been left for observers to laugh at. I noticed him eyeing up her thick coat.

He didn't think twice before reaching up to grab it.

"What?" He snapped noticing my expression, "she doesn't need it anymore."

He wad right of course. Even so there seemed something wrong about stealing from the dead. It made Liam no better than grave robbers who went around stealing bodies and selling them to scientists.

Liam slipped the coat on and turned to laughed us, "when you two die, I'll just be here laughing in my nice warm coat."

He could be a real dick at times.

"Anyway, I've got to finalise my plan to kidnap the prince, he's meant to be arriving today."

I gave him a harsh shove. It was only small but he wasn't excepting it and he went flying into a pile of crates.

This time I couldn't contain my laughter. Everyone else turned to look as well. They all equally found the situation hilarious.

"Wow thanks," He snapped brushing himself off.

"Well maybe you should stop joking about kidnapping the prince," I replied.

"Why?" He retorted, "you seem very defensive about it, are you having a secret affair."

Liam was just trying to annoy me. He knew just as well as I did that sleeping with the same sex is against the will of God. Even thinking of such a thing would have me sent to hell. My mother was extremely religious and we went to church three times a week. One time before she wen mute I stole a toffee. It was on the floor so I hoped it wouldn't count but when she found out she paddled me telling me I was wicked and selfish.

I've never stolen anything ever again.

Perhaps thats why I was so against Liam stealing.

"Look, just stop it!" I snapped harshly.

Liam rolled his eyes, "sorry, your highness, I didn't realise you were the boss of me."

He gave a curtsey which had Niall in hysterics. They both looped arms before walking off together. Niall yelled something after me but I ignored him. They were supposed to be my friends yet neither of them hesitated in ganging up on me. I always cared for people more than they cared about me. That was a fact and nobody was going to change that. All I wanted was for someone to need me and actually for once, care about me as much as I cared for them.

Niall and Liam turned to walk into the local pub. I decided to leave them too it. I knew what they were doing. They were going to blow their own wages then steal mine. If it weren't for me they would have died years ago.

Instead I hunched on the railing by the forest, letting my feet dangle. Although it was freezing, some old gentleman had lent me on of his coats. I lay with my feet outstretched my hair blowing in the harsh wind.

My feet would be purple by the time I time I left, but I didn't care. It felt nice to have some peace and quiet.

Several horses came plodding through struggling to move in the thick powder. Their riders showed no mercy whipping them until the started moving. The poor animals looked half starved but the riders didn't care. As long as they got them from a to b they didn't care what condition the poor animals were in.

"You boy," one of then men called out.

"Shows us the way to the parlour."

I sighed. This seemed to be more of a command than a question. Here was another group of well dressed men treating a poor boy like crap.

If I were Liam I would have told the men I didn't know what they were talking about, but being the good little boy I was brought up to be I lead the men deeper into the woods until we reached the parlour.

The men nodded and they walked inside without so much as a thank you.

This was the sort of gratitude I got for doing good deeds.

It was then I noticed a wheel sticking up from the snow. On a second glance I noticed it wasn't an ordinary cart wheel. Those were small and brown. This one was large and plated with gold, iw as definitely from a carriage. As I poked further into the powder trying to dig the wheel out my feet hit something solid. This time I brushed away the snow to find half of a door. It's second piece was buried further down. It was scratched and covered in dents but still looked regal.

The creepy thing about these pieces were relatively new. By the time I'd brush most of the snow away I'd found pretty much all of the pieces of the carriage. Somebody must have had a terrible accident.

The weirdest thing was that the people hadn't come back to retrieve it. And nobody had tried to steal any of it. That meant I must have been the first person to find it.

A strange pang run through my body. My hands were shaking with fear. If the carriage had only crashed recently and in this foul weather than perhaps-snatching part of the roof I used it to clear as much of the area as possible.

I started to feel round with my hand and felt something soft. Shivering I brushed the remaining powder away.

A blood stained hand was now in full view.

I let out a gasp. A body was lying here in the snow.

This was one of the times in my life, where I didn't know what to do. Eventually I decided to run back to the town and inform the local funeral parlour. They would send someone to pick it up. Iw would've gone through with this plan, if then hand didn't suddenly move.

The person was still alive. How I did not know. But judging by the snow pile on top of them I had to get them out, fast.

I continued with my scrapping method even though my arms were killing me Eventually I had his whole body in view.

It was boy. A young boy probably only around my age. He had brown hair and his body was tiny. He looked so fragile and innocent lying there with his eyes closed. The ugly cut across his forehead from where he'd hit his head, ruined the beauty of the image.

I shook the boys hand gently. It felt like ice.

He may have been dramatically older but I knew that face anywhere-Louis.

I opened his mouth, praying he was still breathing. He was but only just. I had to get him out and fast.

I wrapped Louis in my coat before lifting him up. He was surpassingly lighter than I excepted. I hesitated on walking with him. Surely this would look awful suspicious. A poor boy carrying a rich boy through the streets.

Louis forehead had started bleeding again. I was no physician but I knew it couldn't be good.

In the end I had no option but to carry the prince all the way home. I should have brought him to the palace but being selfish I wanted him to stay with me.

I brought him up to Liam's room where his Mum sat doing some sort of sewing.

She gasped when she saw me. She gasped even louder when she saw Louis in my arms.

"Who's this?' She asked, "oh gosh he's bleeding get him down here."

I placed Louis down on the bed covering him in blankets. He let out a moan. I held my breath but his eyes stayed closed.

"Harry what on earth is a rich boy doing here?" She asked.

I tried to explain. She didn't look as though she believed me but she didn't argue. She wasn't exactly going to make a put him back where I found him.

"Poor boy," She said holding a piece of gauze to his cut, "seems like he's had quite the time of it, we should rpboably try and find his family."

"Well we don't know who they are," I lied, "We'll have to wait until he wakes up."

I still couldn't understand what was happening.. This was the boy I had stopped thinking about thefts few days. The boy who was once my best friend. The boy I used to care so deeply about.

Sadly know he would be the boy who didn't recognise me.

I spent the rest of the day simply staring at the sleeping boy. Every once in a while he would moan or twitch but he didn't wake up. It got later and later and the sky got darker. Chances are Liam and Niall would come back soon and wonder why there was a boy in Liam's bed. The fact he was rich would make the situation worse.

It was then I heard a small voice from behind me.

"Who are you?"

His voice was awfully posh. It was exactly the same as mine used to be. Liam and Niall use to comment on it all the time. I eventually picked up the London slang and learnt to fit in. Every bit of my posh life had been destroyed.

Louis sat up in bed his hair a mess. He rubbed his eyes, looking confused.

"Take it easy, ok," I said softly.

I gently pushed his arms, but he stayed sat up.

I realised I hadn't answered his original question.

"Oh I'm Harry, Harry Styles."

He didn't reply. Instead he stared at me.

"Ok Harry Styles, where on earth am I?"

I didn't really know what to say. I saved you from your certain death seemed a little vague.

"What do you remember?' I asked carefully.

"I remember, leaving home and getting into the carriage. Then the coachman told me we were only 5 minutes away and the son was really thick and-."

"You crashed, I was in the forest and I saw you lying under the snows o I took you back to my home."

He continued to stare at me with those gorgeous eyes. It was strange, he was eighteen but he looked so much younger. His body was petite and very small.He looked more like a boy than a man.

"Ok? um thank you but I should go soon."

I nodded, disappointed. Of course I knew this was coming. Why exactly would a prince want to stay here with me. I was being stupid,I had seen the boy in over 12 years.

"Please get me a change of clothes," He instructed.

I blinked not reacting.

He coughed and started to repeat himself.

"I heard you the first time," I laughed, "no spare clothes here I'm afraid, I only own two pairs of trousers and Niall's wearing the others."

"Oh," the boy said,"why don't you get your servant to get you some more?"

Was he for real? I turned to look at Liam's mum who had fallen asleep ,her head slumped over. He though she was my servant. He really had no idea of the real world.

Louis had only been awake for five seconds and so far I had preferred him when he was unconscious.

"I've got a spare shirt," I said rummaging under the bed. It was actually Liam's shirt but I decided not to mention this. It was plain and dreary in comparison to Louis' clothes but at least it wasn't freezing cold. "It's his, MY best but you can wear it now," I said.

"Thank you..," He mumbled, "It's sort of coming back to me now. We went against the tree and I was thrown into the snow!"

At least he remembered what had happened. I wasn't quire sure what to do if he had woken up with amnesia.

Getting out of bed he put his arms in the air.

"What are you doing?" I asked confused.

"Aren't you going to dress me?" He asked innocently.

He was so adorably clueless. I let out a chuckle but he didn't join in the laughter. I didn't know why I was so surprised, I used to have someone dress me too. It seemed to be something which only rich people had. The again I was six, he must have been at least 18 by now.

I threw the shirt at him, "I'm afraid you need to dress yourself, your highness." There was a mocking tone to my voice.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"What?" I replied.

"How do you know who I am?"

What was I supposed to say to that?

"It's quite obvious."

I left it at that. He could've argued, but judging by the strange day he was having he obviously couldn't be asked.

I let Louis rest for a few more minutes, after all he'd had a nasty bump on the head. I was scared he might fall back asleep but he stayed fully conscious.

He slowly got changed all though the whole task looked to daunting for him.

Just as we were about to leave I heard the door slam downstairs.

"Mum," Liam called, "Mum can you hear me? I need you to clean my shirt, Niall being the idiot he is managed to cover me in mud-"

He continued blabbing all the way up the stairs. His mother remained fast asleep throughout.

"Ok um I don't know what to do," I hissed to Louis who was doing up his buttons at an agonisingly slow pace.

"For pitys sake!" I snapped.

Grabbing the fabric I did up the buttons for him. By this point Liam was already fiddling with the doorknob. Looking frantically around the room, I eventually instructed Louis to lie under the bed.

"It's dirty!" He pointed out.

"Look, unlike you, I don't have a under the bed cleaner, or a dresser or whatever else you have, so if you don't want to be murdered by my anti-royalist friend then you will get under that dam bed now!"

Louis had barely dived under the bed before Liam came into the room.

"What are you, doing here? Liam giggled.

It was obvious he was drunk. He was slurring his words and he could barely stand straight. He clung onto the doorframe; swaying forwards and backwards.

I hated alcohol. It was one of those vile substances which tore families apart. Rich men would earn a decent wage and drink most of it. My father was a heavy drinker. Although he never got violent. he was often squiffy.

"I was just cleaning up," I said picking up a rag from the floor. I made a big show of tossing it on the rubbish pile.

Liam ignored me shaking his mothers shoulder. "Liam?" She mumbled still dazed, "are you drunk?"

We both shared similar views on drinking. On those days where no one worked, we sat at home together whilst the others went down the pub. Liam dad, sisters, Niall Liam and even my Mum would spend the whole day drinking. Often they came back in pieces.

It was up to us to get them all changed and in to bed. It was like taking care of babies.

Liam made his way over to the bed and sat down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me but for a drunk person his grip was strangely tight.

I realised he wasn't as drunk as he was making out to be.

"Oh Harry, you know you may not be as attractive as me, but I've always felt like you will make something of yourself," He was dangling off the bed by this point worryingly close to Louis.

"Oh you'll make something of yourself too," I said awkwardly patting his back. I couldn't decide whether this a compliment or an insult.

"No I won't," he threw his hands dramatically into the air, "look at me I'm all looks and no talent!"

It was then Liam stamped his foot on the ground. That by itself would have been fine. If it weren't for the fact his foot crunched onto Louis's hand.

Letting out a howl Louis came out of his hiding place. Clutching his hand, he fixed Liam with a stern glare.

Both of the men stared at each other. The silence must have lasted for at least 10 seconds. Eventually both of their heads turned simoutanilsly towards me.

It was a that moment I knew I was fucked.


	5. Chapter 5-How the other half live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis meets Liam. Flashback to what happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering why I'm getting these out so fats it's because I prewrote them for watt pad

Louis's p.o.v

"Who are you?" The boy who had rudely crushed my hand said.

My hand was still throbbing. It had turned a strange shade of red and it felt numb. I wiggled it up and down wondering if it where broken. Thomas would go mad if he found I had, had an injury.

Then again he would have been even more distraught if "Harry," as he called himself hadn't saved me. I would be dead if it weren't for him.

"Oi," hand crusher yelled flapping his hand in my face, "I said who are you and why are you in my house?"

"Room," Harry muttered under his breath.

Hand crusher rolled his eyes at Harry, "Answer me!"

I didn't see why I should "answer him." After all he was being horrible to me. I simply fixed him with a small sharp smile, before sitting on the bed. It creaked under my weight. The mattress was beyond sagging.

"He's Louis, the prince," The woman in the corner piped up.

"Shut up!" Harry snapped fiercely.

It seemed as though the maid had dropped me right in it.

Hand crusher raised his eyebrows in disbelief. The shocked expression on his face quickly turned to a smirk. Although the boy wobbled from side to side, drunk his brain was still active enough to start a fight with me.

I didn't know this boy. I didn't know anybody in this room. All I knew about hand crusher boy was that he was "anti-royalists at least that was what Harry had told me.Why exactly? Had he had a bad experience with a royal before? Even if he had what right did he have to slot me straight into the same category as them. Everyone was pre-judging me before they even knew me.

I remembered what the duke had said last night. The monarchy was it big trouble. Were people like this boy planning to overthrow my father? Maybe he'd keep me captive, use me as a ransom.

Harry seemed completely done with the situation. He stood hunched into the corner, his head bent. Surely he wouldn't let crusher boy get away with this. if he hated the monarchy, then he wouldn't have saved me.

"So, your highness," The boy leaned forward. His eyes suddenly snapped downwards.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" He shouted grabbing at the material, "take it off, now!"

He pulled me forward and started to roughly undo the buttons. I started screaming at him to let me go. I wasn't sure why I was so afraid of his grappling hands. For some reason it brought back memories. Memories I desperately wanted to forget.

"Get off him, Liam," Harry demanded .

Grabbing me by my shoulders, Harry guided me towards the door. "I'm sorry, I brought him here, but he needed help. I figured bringing him here was the safest option."

Liam let out a strange noise which was halfway between a chortle and a cry. "That explains the cut on his head, so tell me, your highness, what exactly happened?"

This morning seemed like a lifetime ago. Some much had happened since setting of this morning. I nearly died for goodness sake. The memories were still hazy but the events leading up to now were starting to become clearer.

My carriage had left at 8:00 clock sharp that morning. Weirdly Thomas didn't come with me. Apparently he had business to sort out here.

"I'll be with you in a few days," He said kissing my forehead.

I couldn't help but feel strange. All my life I'd been wanting to have freedom. After all I'd been with Thomas everyday of my life; but now I was finally getting that freedom, I felt empty inside.

I had no choice put to climb into the carriage, alone. I had never travelled alone before and it felt nice. I could put my feet up on the upholstery without anyone yelling me. I could drink as much as I pleased and I could finally just relax.

Although it was freezing cold I removed my coat. Thomas always insisted that I looked presentable. With no Thomas for miles I could do what I liked.

The journey was longer than I excepted. I knew London was far away of course I did. When I looked at in on the map in geography I figured it would only take an hour or so. Anything more than that seemed like an eternity. The furthest I'd ever travelled was to my other uncle's house.

After what felt like hours I found myself nodding off.

I found myself stuck in this bizarre dream. I was being lead onto the stage, two burly guards either side of me.

As I was guided through the bustling crowd, they started chanting and booing. The pulled at my hair, they kicked me. several even grabbed my ears. I cried at them to let go but nobody listened.

I was positively dragged up the wooden stairs, to the stage. A small block waited for me, a man with a sharp axe stood next to it.

"Please don't kill me," I screamed.

They showed no mercy. I was pushed to my knees and my neck was smashed into the block. I tried to regain my breath, but it was impossible with hundreds of eyes staring at me. My mother stood among them. My mother. There were tears in her eyes. My mother. I had to see her, I needed to talk to her.

"Mother, mother please!" I screamed.

She mouthed something to me, before turning to walk away. i struggled to read her lips.

Kicking the guards away I tried to make a run for it. I had to see her. I had to know wha she said.

I may have managed to outrun the guards but a hand on my collar dragged e back.

A large menacing man stood in front of me. He was massive. HIs vast moon of a stomach stretched his clothes to the maximum/.His shoulders were like mountains so vast, I could see no escape. The crown on his head indicated who he was.

"Father," I whispered.

He brought his head closer to mine. His eyes bored deep into my head. Those eyes and that look reminded me of Thomas.

"You're no son of mine," He cried dragging me back to the block.

Using his own force he pushed me back to the ground. I cried. This time I wasn't angry but upset. My father and mother hated me. Now just like my mother I was going to die.

I let one last almighty scream before the axe flew through the air.

"Your Highness," I woke up to the coachman shaking me.

I was back in reality. I lay half dressed in the back of the coach. My hands gripped my neck just to make sure. My head was still attached. I wasn't dead.

"Did we crash?" I mumbled wondering why we weren't moving.

"No it's just the snows coming down hard and I needed to find an alternative route," the man replied, scanning his eyes over the map.

I turned to look outside. The whole country looks as it if had been covered in a white sheet. Everywhere I looked was snow. Large flakes fell from the sky and didn't show any sign of stopping. I put on my coat and joined the coachman who was hanging out of the door.

"Your, highness you'll catch your death out here," He commented running his finger along the map, "are you ok?"

"I'm not that fragile you know," I snapped.

"No I mean you were screaming in your sleep, something about your mother."

I blushed. I didn't know I was talking in my sleep. The coachman knew along with everyone else that my mother was a sensitive topic. Her name was hardly ever mentioned. Nobody had ever directly talked to me about her before.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," He replied.

I shook my head, "don't worry about it, everyone walks on eggshells around me. It's like they think I'm going to blow at any moment"

The coachman gave me a pat on the back. I knew he was only trying to be comforting, but it just made the situation awkward.

He didn't understand. The man wasn't poor, but he wasn't rich either. He was one of those middle class men. They lived in those luxurious villas. Their houses were perfect size. Their servants were only for sensible things like cooking. One of my servants job was to bathe me for gods sake. They seemed to have everything. They weren't so poor, they had nothing, but they weren't so rich that they had everything.

It must be nice to not have people constantly fussing about you.

Despite the weather the coachman decided to continue. Thomas have giving him strict rules about me being there by the end of the day. I couldn't understand why it was so important I got there then; but like always I never argue with Thomas's will.

The snow didn't show any signs of stooping. It continued pelting past the windows in large clumps. the carriage was getting slower ad slower, the wheels must have been getting stuck in the thick dust.

The temperature also continued to drop. It got colder and colder, until I was freezing. For once I was glad Thomas was worried about me getting sick. The layers of clothing I wore helped to reserve my body heat.

"Sir!" I called tot eh coachman opening the window.

Bad idea, opening the wind managed to bring in at least tonne of snow.

"Thomas told me I had to keep going?" He called fighting against the sharp winds, "but 'i'm not willing to risk our lives, I'm going to stop."

I nodded shutting the window. At least it was being sensible.

It was then I felt the carriage careering sideways. For a second I found myself thrown against the side. It seemed to setback on track, but no sooner had I calmed down the it started to tilt sideways. With an unlitmately crash the whole carriage slammed into a tree, hurtling me forwards.

I lay on my back gasping for breath. the carriage was still titlting, the whole thing hadn't quite hit the tree. I knew I had to get out. I tried but I couldn't move.

With one finally creek the whole carriage fell into the tree.

Pain. Pain was the only thing that I could feel. The whole world see to be distorted. The snow covered hills seemed to be spinning around me. I tried to find something to cling onto but my hands rested on the cold snow. It immediately broke in my hands.

My hand, still shaking touched my forehead. Warm blood stained my hand red. I tired stand up but my legs were too wobbly to move. The snow continued to fall. My whole body was slowly starting to become numb. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.

With one last might attempt I managed to life my head of the ground. Shaking off the snow, my eyes tried to focus. The world continued to spin however I could just about see the wreck of the carriage. The once beautiful structure lay in pieces. 

The coachman sat next to it, looking stunned. At first glance he looked ok. However when I looked again I noticed a massive tree branch sticking out of his abdomen. He must have been knocked off his horse and ended up skewered on the tree. The man said nothing. He simply started down at the branch.

I let out another scream. The time a slight sound came out of my mouth, although it was barely a whisper.

I needed to help the coachman, he was going to die. I knew however, in order to help him, first I desperately needed to help myself.

Neither of these things were possible.

Laying back down in the snow I stared up at the tress. Despite the white flakes they looked beautiful. I tried to ignore the pain by focusing on the view but it wasn't possible. Eventually the snow started to blind my vision and I fell into a deep sleep.

I had to explain the story to Liam and Harry. I missed out the dream though. Harry may have been ok with it but I knew Liam would laugh. He just came across as that sort of person.

He didn't seem to completely believe my story and if course he had to point out the coachman."So Harry and princey you left the poor coachman to die."

"I didn't see his body," Harry pointed out.

Liam laughed, putting his hands on his hips he pouted. "Harry was just so overcome with emotions for princey here, that he failed to see past his gorgeous unconscious body."

I found myself turning bright red. Part of it was embarrassment but the other was anger. What right did he have to mock us like this? I had no relation with this "Harry" boy. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I couldn't imagine how angry Thomas would be if he knew I was in a rundown building with poor boys.

"Cheer up, princey, I know it wasn't your fault."

"Don't call me that!" I snapped. I tried to sound fierce but I just sounded pathetic.

"Why not that's what you are isn't it?"

I'd never met anyone as argumentative as him before. Most people simply wouldn't dare go against my will. I wasn't a mean person by any means, but I was a prince. Prince meant authority over everyone. Everyone except Thomas in my case.

"Lets go," Harry said tapping my shoulder.

I nodded. I still felt all sick and shaky. The cold must have gotten me. Although Liams presence in the room could've been the cause. I was desperate to get away from Liam, but I was scared. I was nervous to go the palace. My comfortable, happy life back home had been destroyed in just one day. Today I'd been exposed to mores horrors then I ever had in my whole life.

Picking up a cloak from the ground, Harry wrapped in round my bare arms.

"Do you mind?" Liam snapped, "that's my Dads, first of all you steal my shirt now you're stealing his cloak."

"I'll have someone give them back to you tomorrow, I promise," I said.

Liam obviously didn't believe me, but he didn't argue.

We left Liam in the shabby old room. When Harry's back was turned he stuck his hands up in a rude gesture. I did it back to him before quickly leaving the roam.

We paases several drunk men on the way. They yelled out foul names at Harry. Several of them were even indicated at me. I excepted Harry to say something but he just pushed past them,his head pointed down to the floor. They grabbed at him. Picking up his curls, grabbing snd his shirt pulling his arms. Nothing. Harry simply shrugged them off and continued walking.

"Why did you let them get away with that?' I asked as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

He shrugged, "it's no big deal, they do it to everybody."

I couldn't believe his attitude. If anybody and touched me like that Thomas would have had sent to jail.

"But they can't treat you like that-"

"Leave it," He said sharply. 

Harry forced his body against the shabby old door which seemed to be refusing to budge. It was old. The wood had started to wear away. Woodworm had obviously been working on it for months. Harry eventually resorted to kicking the door. With one final smack from his foot the door opened. it must have been painful as he was barefoot but he didn't even flinch.

"Come on," he beckoned me.

The outside came as even more of a shock. Although it was dark, I could still make out the harsh glare of the houses. The buildings were all crumpling, the wood seemed as though it would give way at anyway moment. Ugly chalk marks littered all the walls. Many of the windows were covered up. Presumably to avoid paying window tax.

The people weren't much better. A young children sat in a pile of sewage screaming, an old man leaned against the wall chuckling to himself. A young woman sat in a doorway staring intently at the two of us.

I may  have felt for all these people but Harry didn't give them a second glance. I suppose if I saw this stuff everyday, I wouldn't notice either.

"I know it's not the sort of place a prince is used to, but believe me this is actually the slightly nicer poor part of town."

I nodded, not believing him. How somewhere could be anymore foul than here I did not know.

We walked to the palace in silence. In got so     In dark that I could barely see where I was going. I tired to keep track of all the paths, but it was impossible. They all squashed into one. It was crazy for me to even trust, Harry. He could lead me down one of these random paths and murder me. After all I didn't know any better.

For some reason, something made me trust him.

"So, what's it like, you know being a prince?" Harry asked breaking the silence.

"Oh um, it;s ok. I've never known any differently I guess."

"It must be nice," He said, "to have everything severed toy on a golden platter."

I wanted to argue, but he was right. I did have anything and everything I wanted served to me. 

"It has disadvantages though, I can't go anywhere without Thomas standing right next to me. Forget attending parties or going to events I might get sick," I mocked Thomas voice.

"Maybe it will be different now you're not a child," Harry suggested.

That was I was hoping. Surely now I was 18 they couldn't keep treating me like a child. Most people my age were married with their first child. Several times I saw my governess ask Thomas why on earth I wasn't married yet.

The main aim for a prince or king was to produce a heir. Once you've done that you've generally fulfilled your main aim.

All the wars and rebellions are a second thought.

As Harry pulled back a cluster of leaves the palace came into view. The sheer size of it shocked me. It seemed to stretch further then my eye could see. The bright  glows from the windows seemed to light up the gloomy night sky.

"Wow," I said in admiration .

Harry grimaced, "and you're the lucky bugger who gets to live there."

For a moment I saw a touch of sadness evident on Harrys face. The problem was, I couldn't relate to him. Anything I said would be treated as a joke To him, I was just a rich boy.

"Tell me about you," I said.

"What?" He replied looking shocking.

"Well, you know everything about me but I don't know anything about you."

He started to fidget, rocking on his feet. "Well..um my father died when I was six and me and my mother struggled to survive. She had the odd job but she couldn't earn enough money. So I ended up working in a boys school as a servant. That was where I met Niall and Liam. It was awful, but you know we had each other. We stuck together through our other crappy jobs and eventually fetched up at Mr Harrison's."

It seemed as though his life ad been much more interesting than mine.

"SO tell me about you then?" He said a small smile creeping onto his face.

He did have an adorable smile. Snap out of it Louis I said to myself. Being attracted to the same sex was not something to be proud of. Thomas would be furious.

"You already know everything. I'm a prince and Thomas is extremely overprotective."

"Some things veer change," He mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Forget it," He muttered.

Taking me firmly by the hand he lead me up to the palace gates. Several guards stood staring at us. It didn't take long for them to come over.

"Louis," He said. "Welcome to hell."


End file.
